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Learning to Love

Page 4

by Catherine Harper


  "For what?"

  "For being understanding," Robert smiled. "You're a good woman, Mary Samuels."

  "You're not a bad one yourself, Mr. Hagan," Mary smiled.

  Opening the door and allowing her to go ahead of him, he joked, "Maybe one day I'll get to change that surname of yours."

  Some things are worth waiting for, Mary said chuckling as he chased her to the horse and buggy.

  *****

  "Thanks for coming down," the sheriff nodded on opening up his office door. "Robert, Miss Samuels." Standing back to allow them through, he pointed to a wooden bench where both boys were fast asleep. "Probably the shock of it all. Once we feed them, the two boys cuddled up on the bench there and fell asleep. Kinda sad to wake them, they look so peaceful."

  Robert nodded to the back of the office. "And George?"

  "He's out the back, none too happy about all of this," the sheriff said, looking that way. Turning back to the children on the bench, he added. "He gave poor Tom there a tongue lashing for spilling the beans on him.—I don't know what's going on in George's head lately. But neighbors say he's been hitting the bottle a lot lately."

  Looking at the pair of children Mary's heart went out to them, thinking of the life they must have been living outside school. Seeing Tom asleep with a reassuring arm around his brother, she felt blessed for the short time she'd had with her own parents. They mightn't have always been there for her, but they'd given her a good start and made her the woman she now was. Shaking her head Mary muttered to herself. "Poor dears."

  "Yes, Ma'am," the sheriff nodded. "But now you're here we can get these two to bed."

  Standing back, Mary watched the men pick the two boys up easily without wakening them. Then going to the door she held it open as they took the pair to the buggy outside. Joining them there, she climbed aboard and helped the boys get settled. Holding them in place while Robert jumped in from the other side, she threw an extra blanket over them all and pulled them closer to her. Looking to the sheriff and getting a silent nod in reply, Robert 'clicked' to his horse and got them under way.

  Now used to getting around Woodvale, Mary paid little attention to the countryside that passed them in the dark. Looking to the sky, and watching the stars instead, she found herself happy looking at the vast expanse above her head. Lost in a world of her own, Mary felt for a moment as though she was being watched. Turning to Robert she found him looked at her with a grin. Seeing the children still asleep and fearing of waking them, she whispered, "What?"

  "You and me."

  "What about you and me?"

  "Traveling under the stars, with our ready-made family."

  Mary smiled at the comment and felt what he meant. Looking at them traveling with a couple of children between them, seemed so natural to her. Wondering if it was this that was making her feel so happy with herself, she felt the buggy slow. Looking to Robert, she asked, "Something wrong?" Searching the horizon for any sign of trouble and finding none, she turned back to him. "What?"

  Robert put his reins aside. Taking her hand, he said, "There's something I promised I'd never do. I can't keep that promise anymore. I know I said-"

  "Yes," Mary said and smiled. "You're right. I've seen how short life can be and for whatever day's I've left I want to share them with you."

  "Really?"

  "I love you, Robert," Mary said and chuckled on seeing him lost for words. "Well, aren't you going to ask me properly? It's not like you don't know my answer."

  "Yeah, yeah. What was I thinking?—Mary Samuels would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

  "Nothing would make me happier," Mary replied.

  "Holy smoke," Robert shook his head. Leaning in for a kiss he found the bundle between them keep them apart.

  "Let's get these two to bed first," Mary smiled. "And then we can celebrate."

  Cracking the reins and not caring how much noise he now made, Robert sent the buggy off at a brisk pace for home.

  Chapter 11

  Eight months later…

  "Father's home!"

  Mary lifted her head up from her needlework and watched the buggy come up the hill and come to a halt. "Thanks, Tom. Will you go and find Henry and tell him to wash up, I'll be in in a moment."

  "Good evening my wife and how do I find you?" Robert smiled, bounding up the stairs and coming over to kiss her. Rubbing her swollen belly he asked. "And how is our youngest pupil?"

  "Still there," Mary said and held out her hands for Robert to pull her to her feet. Once up, she pushed her hand's to the bottom of her spine. Shaking her head, she added, "I swear, I never thought a child on the inside could tire you out as much out of you as one on the outside."

  "Boys playing up?"

  Mary waved the comment away. "No, they've been fine. So any word?"

  Beaming, Tom pulled an envelope out from behind his back. "It's official."

  Not waiting for him to open it, Mary snatched the envelope and opened it. Excitedly reading the letter it contained, she lifted her eyes and met his. "You're not joking?"

  "Nope, it's all there in black and white. From today, Tom and Henry are finally part of our family."

  Happy for both her and Robert, Mary wondered how the boys would take it. After losing their father to a suicide in his cell, they'd given them a home and treated them as their own. Now holding the page in her hand's their small family had gone from one child to three. Throwing her arms around Robert's neck she pulled him to her and kissed him. "I love you. And thank you."

  "For what?"

  "For everything," Mary said, thinking on how her life had changed in such a short time. Coming to Woodvale with nothing but a dream, she'd thought losing James was the end of it all. Little did she know that life had given her a greater chance to love again. Not just with one man, but also the family that had sprung up around her. Pulling the front door open, she led the way inside.

  "Tom, Henry, we've got great news for you…."

  Keep reading for a free sample taken from Catherine's first book "The Irish Runaway," plus a great money saving offer.

  The Following is a free sample taken from Catherine's first book "The Irish Runaway."

  “I'm sorry Shannon. They tried everything they could to save him.”

  Shannon looked at the lips that were still moving but couldn't hear anything else that Sean told her. Feeling like she was in a bubble that was out of sync with the world, she watched as her neighbor from the old country tried his best to example what had happened to her brother. Hearing that Conor was dead, she didn't need to know any more of the details. He wouldn't be coming for her now. Picturing the last time she'd seen him with that boyish grin on his face, she thought back to the last conversation they'd had. He'd promised to find her a great husband out west, someone who could give a life she'd never have in Ireland.

  “I thought it best if I came to tell you the news,” Sean said.

  Gripping the handle of the broom in her hand, Shannon concentrated on the grain of the wood that lay under her fingers. Right now it was the only thing that felt real to her. Picking at a small splinter that had annoyed her earlier, she smiled as it came free. Looking it over and wondering how something so small could cause her pain, she held it out and smiled weakly at him.

  “Damn thing's been pestering me all morning.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn't like me to call someone?”

  “I'm fine. Thanks for coming Sean,” Shannon said waving away his comment. Hearing the room as if for the first time, she listened as the patrons at the bar cheered and laughed. Looking them over she thought it strange that the closest friend that she'd ever had was gone. Gone, and no one seemed to care about it.

  “Shannon?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe you should sit down?”

  Seeing him reach out and touch her shoulder, Shannon found his contact bring her back to the real world. Feeling embarrassed about how she must look to him, she grabbed onto the first thing that came t
o her mind.

  “Sorry Sean, how are you? Forgive my manners, how long has it been?”

  “Too long, but that's not important right now I-”

  “What was I thinking?” Shannon said, looking around her. “You must be thirsty after your long journey. What can I get you… whiskey?”

  “Eh, whiskey would be fine.”

  “Tom,” Shannon waved her hand to the barkeeper, “two whiskeys please.”

  Getting a nod in return, she turned her attention back to Sean, picking a table where they could talk in peace she pointed him in that direction. Getting there, she sat on her seat and watched as Sean looked her over once more.

  “Thought it better than you getting a telegram,” He said pulling up his chair. “I know how close you two were.”

  Seeing Tom come their way, Shannon said nothing in reply until he'd left their drinks and gone back to the bar. Picking her shot glass she toasted her brother and downed it in one gulp. Grimacing at the burning sensation of the spirit on the way to her stomach, she smiled weakly as Sean did the same. Now with it inside her and a sturdy chair to keep her upright, Shannon felt the courage to ask what had happened.

  “You probably already know that he'd joined up with a mining company.”

  Hearing those words Shannon nodded. He'd written only two weeks ago with news of his new venture. Sending her a portion of his money with the letter, he'd told her that life away from laying railroad tracks would give him a better life. They'd been promised a share of everything that came out of the ground, he'd reported.

  “He said that this was the one,” Shannon said, remembering the excitement in his letter.

  “Sometimes what's promised and what happens can be two different things,” Sean said. “From what I'd heard, they worked them hard. Conor volunteered to join the demolition crew, a week ago. They promised everyone that if the workload went up they'd all be in for a big payday. I don't know what happened tell you the truth, but I can only imagine between long hours and tiredness, someone made a mistake. They tried digging them out, but it was no use, by the time they got to them, well…”

  She watched him try to find the right word and nodded that she understood.

  “I thought you might want these.”

  Reaching down for a leather satchel, he lifted it off the floor and put it on his lap. Flipping the lid open she watched him rummage about inside it. Taking out a small bundle of letters he placed them delicately on the table. Looking to the pile and afraid to touch them, she watched as he placed a small cross and chain beside them.

  “That's all he had, Shannon. I'm sorry.”

  Ignoring Sean's apology, she stared at the cross and picked it up. Running her fingers over the small links in its chain, she remembered back to the day she'd bought it for him. Coming off the boat from Ireland, she'd seen it a small market stall and given it to him. She knew he wasn't the religious type, but he'd taken it anyway. Remembering how he'd laughed at her for mothering him, she was happy to see that he'd still kept it.

  “I know it's none of my business and all-” Sean apologized.

  “What's not?”

  “Well, I suppose you'll be going home now.”

  “To Ireland? Not a chance.”

  “I don't mean to pry, but I know he was sending you some of his money-”

  “And?”

  “I know you're in shock and all, but you'll have to consider how you'll take care of yourself with Conor gone. I mean life in the city, well you must have been supplementing your wage with what he gave you.”

  Hearing the words Shannon felt another blow. She hadn't thought of what the consequences losing her brother would mean to her own life.

  “Look, I'll be staying in town for a few more days, got a few things to clear up. But I'll be back when you've taken it all in... I've also sent word home to your parents.”

  Giving her a hand another squeeze, he left without another word. Still staring at the door long after it had closed, Shannon gripped the bundle of letters to her chest and cried for all she was worth.

  Chapter 2

  Although hard to forget him after his last appearance, Shannon looked Sean over with surprise. Throwing herself into her work and refusing to take time off, she tried everything in the last two days to keep Conor's death out of her mind. Now like before, he was bringing her back there again.

  “Shannon.”

  “Sean.”

  “How are you?”

  Shannon tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “OK, I suppose, much as I can be.”

  “I'm sorry,” Sean said, looking to his feet. “That was stupid. I was looking for the right thing to say all the way over here.”

  “It's alright. You're not the only one that's been tip toeing around me,” Shannon nodded to the patrons at the bar. “So how are you?”

  “Fine, fine. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  Looking to the table, they'd been at before, Shannon led the way. Getting there before him, she watched Sean walk toward her with a strong limp. Waiting for him to make himself comfortable, she compared his appearance to the last time she'd seen him. Getting to America six months before them, it was his letter's home that had spurned the two of them to make the voyage here. Now sitting across from her it looked like those words didn't paint a true picture of his life. Looking a little more than his twenty eight years, his once black hair bore more than a flicker of grey at the temples.

  Slapping his knee Sean apologized, “Sorry about that. Must be the weather. It does that sometimes.”

  “What happened to you?”

  “Laying rail. Well, I should say it tried to lay me,” Sean smiled. “A few lengths of it landed on my leg, my own fault I suppose. Anyway, busted my knee. Doc said I was lucky not to lose it. So I guess I can't grumble.”

  “I didn't know, sorry to hear that.”

  “Hey, these things happen. What can you do about it?”

  Seeing him uncomfortable talking about his condition, she tried to get the conversation back on track.

  “So… you said you'd be here for a few days?”

  “I'm going home-”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Well, as you can see, life out west isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Having a dodgy leg kinda puts a limit on what you can do. Plus I'm homesick. Looking at miles upon miles of open prairie might suit some, but I'd swap it for greens fields with stone walls any day.”

  Shannon smiled, remembering where they'd grown up. Coming from a small rural village in west Cork, her past life had seemed so quaint and small now.

  “It's funny I was just thinking there-” Sean smiled.

  “About what?”

  “You remember that time, the time that cow walked in in the middle of mass?”

  Shannon smiled, remembering back to the scene of it having to be pushed out during Sunday morning mass. “I'll never forget the look on Father Flaherty's face-”

  “That was Conor and I that did that”

  “Conor? You're kidding me?”

  “Well, it was my idea,” he replied with a look of pride on his face. “Although he'll probably have said that it was his.”

  “He never said a word, not even after all those years. I remember the throttling Dad gave him, but he always denied it.”

  “He was a good guy.”

  Shannon nodded her head. “Yes, he was.”

  “Speaking of your dad, I got word from him yesterday.”

  Hearing her father mentioned, Shannon held her breath and froze.

  “He wants you to come home.” Reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper, Sean flattened it out and slipped it across the table.

  Reaching for the telegram Shannon picked it up and careful read the message.

  'Sorry to hear about Conor. Bring Shannon home.'

  Picturing the man behind the words, she was instantly brought back to the life she'd run from and dropped the telegram with disgust.

  “You don't look happy.” />
  “You know why we ran away, don't you? You know what he was like, domineering, controlling. America's not far enough away from that man.”

  “Maybe he's changed, Shannon. People do-”

  “Really? So that 'Sorry to hear about Conor,' it's just dripping with sentiment, isn't it? Five words, fives words to sum up his only son's death. You know I bet a part of him is glad that Conor's dead, just to prove that he was right and we were wrong…”

  “I think you're being hard on him Shannon.”

  Shannon leaned in toward him, “You know the last thing he said to us?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “He said he had no children anymore. Once we stepped on that boat we could forget about any inheritance. As if that could keep us there. As always using money to keep people in line.”

  “But that was two years ago, Shannon. A lot's happened since then. Remember he did lose his son. And what about your mother don't you think she'd be happy to see you again?”

  “The less said about her the better,” Shannon said and flopped back in her chair. “I'd use the word 'mother' very loosely to sum up that woman.” Looking at his face and seeing him remain silent, she tried to work out what was going on in his head. Then it came to her. Picking up the telegram she waved at him, “That's what all this is about. And here I was thinking you were doing the neighborly thing and checking up on me.” Seeing him shift uncomfortably in his seat, she knew she was right. “He bought you. Half way around the world and he's still using his money to control people.”

  “You don't understand.”

  Folding her arms across her chest she sat and stared at him. “Try me.”

  “He's promised me some land and a few other things to bring you home.”

  “So he bought you.”

  “Bought is a strong word-”

  “It's the only one I'd use here,” Shannon said and watched him reach in his pocket. “What's that?”

 

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